


Honey

by ashinae, cruisedirector



Category: Master and Commander (movie), Master and Commander - All Media Types
Genre: Age of Sail, Community: perfect_duet, Food Sex, Long Hair, M/M, Making Love, Romance, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-13
Updated: 2004-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinae/pseuds/ashinae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Stephen spend a rare evening on dry land, with no obligations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liars_dance](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=liars_dance).



> Patrick O'Brian owns them. We're fairly certain he did not envision them doing this, despite all the discussions of buggery in the novels. Warnings: Violations of the Articles of War, sentimentality, stickiness, no plot to speak of. We haven't read all the books, so there may be canonical deviation. Many thanks to liars_dance for correcting our North American English. We found the characters via movieverse, so it's Russell Crowe and Paul Bettany we're seeing and hearing.

At the inn it was too warm to close the windows, and hundreds of noisy sailors filled the streets outside. Silence was therefore as necessary on land as it always had been on the ship, which disappointed Stephen; it gave him great happiness when Jack, whose cries in passion were as robust as his appetites, could give full voice to his pleasure. In the morning, and for the next several weeks, their separate obligations would keep them apart, and it was Stephen's intention to enjoy this single night when they might share a room, and a bed, in comfort and privacy most unaccustomed to them.

Jack had brought up two bottles of wine, a gift from the proprietor who was apparently an old friend. "We must celebrate!" he announced without explaining the occasion, for they had come into port without having taken any great prize. Nonetheless Stephen pulled two glasses from a cupboard and put them on the table, where Jack opened a bottle and poured for them.

"I would offer a toast, joy, but you have not told me what it is that we are celebrating," prodded Stephen. Jack smiled at him, a small pained grin that could not completely hide the predatory gleam in his glance.

"Don't you know that it has been months since you and I spent an evening alone?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "We played the fugue together not four days ago." Picking up one of the glasses, he added, "Or did you mean that it has been months since we spent an entire night alone?" Jack ran a finger around the rim of his glass, nodding. "I don't think we've had a night in three months when I didn't have some ill or injured crewman sleeping a few inches away from me. I've felt lucky even to have an evening alone."

"So have I," agreed Jack as he moved his chair closer to Stephen's. "I've missed this." Their glasses clinked softly as Stephen lifted his to Jack's. "To nights alone." Jack took a drink, then glanced across the table at Stephen. Lifting his bare foot, he ran his toe along the side of his leg. "What shall we do with the rest of our night?"

Stephen glanced down at Jack's toes, holding back a smile. "Why do I have the impression that you already have a plan?"

"Undoubtedly because you know me so well." Jack nudged his foot between Stephen's thighs on the chair. Taking it in his hands, Stephen began to apply pressure to the arch while Jack licked his lip. "You see the honey that's left?" Stephen glanced over at the tray with the remains of their dessert; the honey was in a small dish with a little silver spoon, and some of it had drizzled across the tray when Jack took the spoon to pour some in his tea. "I thought that I would carefully lay you out on the bed and dribble that honey across your chest. And that once I had finished that, I would lick it off."

Stephen's cock twitched in his trousers; he was sure Jack could feel it, even though his own hands rested between the sole of Jack's foot and his groin. Still, he forced his expression to remain unaffected. "Why, I'm not sure that's sanitary, Jack."

"You bathed last night," Jack said lightly. "And once I'm done, I'll bathe you again."

Stephen pretended to think about this proposal. "I suppose that would be all right, as long as we didn't then use the same spoon for the tea."

"No, of course not. There appears to be an extra one. How clever of the proprietor." Jack grinned and wriggled his toes. Sitting back, Stephen let his pelvis thrust forward into Jack's arch, and Jack gently rubbed his foot against Stephen's groin. "I intend to savour you, Stephen." Stephen's clothing was beginning to feel tight, as well as entirely too warm for the close room. He loosened his collar with one hand while the other toyed with Jack's toes, keeping the foot pressed firmly against himself. "You're rather stiff already," Jack said, grinning wickedly.

"You must be imagining things." Yet Stephen could not help but grin back. "I have a telescope in my pocket."

"Oh, pity. I thought that perhaps you were happy to have me here."

"Of course I'm happy to have you here. How often do I have the opportunity to touch your feet when they're entirely clean?"

"Not very often at all." Jack took another drink and wiggled his toes again. "Your hands are wonderful, Stephen."

Stephen pressed his fingers beneath the hem of Jack's trousers and began to massage his calf muscle. "You don't let me do this often enough," he chided when Jack all but groaned at the touch. Releasing Jack's foot, he took another sip of his nearly untouched wine and added, "Shall we go over to the bed, then?"

"Yes, I think we shall." Jack got to his feet and extended his hand. Stephen took it and rose, feeling Jack's warm, calloused fingers drawing him closer. Reaching out, he tugged open the fastening of Jack's collar. Jack's free hand went to Stephen's hip, and he leaned forward and kissed him softly. "It is starting to feel very warm in here."

Stephen moaned at the gentle kiss before he could laugh at Jack's words. Wrapping an arm around him, he slid a hand under Jack's vest and drew his fingernails across his back above the material of the shirt. "That's because you're wearing too much."

Arching his back, Jack shivered. "Am I? We must remedy that," he said, and began to work open the buttons on his vest.

Stephen quickly rid himself of his own vest and unfastened his shirt to his waist. He had removed his boots earlier but heavy stockings still covered his feet, and he bent to remove those, too. "Why hasn't someone designed clothing more comfortable for the tropics? These are bad enough in England in the summer."

"If I knew the answer to that question, I would tell you." Jack worked open his shirt and trousers and pulled them off, draping them over the back of his chair. He stepped closer to Stephen, moving around behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. "Instead, I can merely comment on what a joy it is to watch you bare your skin." His hands trailed down Stephen's chest.

Stephen laughed faintly. There were fewer scars on his body than Jack's, for he had seen much less combat, but it still bemused him that Jack stayed with him when they were in a city with beautiful, charming women who would make themselves available to a ship's captain with coins in his pocket. Women were a weakness of Jack's and Stephen did not suppose that it would ever be otherwise; occasionally he found himself bitter when deprived of Jack's company in favour of a bosomy distraction, but the women never became a significant fixture in Jack's life, whereas he was deeply attached to Stephen even during the times when they gave up all hope of intimacy for family or career obligations.

Turning, Stephen dropped his clothes carelessly over Jack's and moved close to him, tugging his hair free of the tie that held it back from his face. "There you are," Jack murmured, a note of appreciation in his voice. He pulled Stephen into his arms and kissed him, his tongue seeking entrance to Stephen's mouth. Stephen left his hand in Jack's hair as he returned the kiss, cracking his eyes open to watch Jack's face from such close vantage. Without clothing to restrain it, his cock sprang up eagerly as he pressed against Jack's hip.

"You seem very eager this evening, Doctor," Jack teased, nipping at Stephen's bottom lip as he pulled him closer.

"As I believe you have already pointed out, we haven't had a night alone in..." Stephen decided he had no reason to keep talking when Jack's tongue licked at his lip to soothe it. He tugged gently at Jack's hair, angling his head, and pressed his mouth beneath Jack's chin where he could feel the pulse in his throat. Jack let out a happy little moan; his fingertips moved lightly along the line of Stephen's spine.

Stephen's free hand moved to Jack's chest and traced circles around it while his tongue made the same motion against his neck. He greatly enjoyed how unashamed Jack was of this; the other men he had known had sought no contact beyond the quick relief of his hand, often under the pretext of requiring medical assistance, and there had certainly been no kissing.

"Oh," Jack gasped, squirming a little in Stephen's arms. "If you keep this up, I am afraid I may forget my purpose."

"Your purpose? Do you mean that if I keep this up, you will turn traitor and conquer the world for France?" It was all too easy to tease Jack's flesh gently between his fingers. Growling playfully, Jack captured Stephen's hands, holding them still.

"I will forget that I had intended to give _you_ pleasure tonight." Stephen was tempted to drop to his knees and take Jack into his mouth, but he remembered Jack's promise about the honey and smiled instead, backing toward the bed.

Smiling, Jack watched him move, then he turned and picked up the small dish of honey, leaving the spoon they had used behind and bringing the other with him. He put dish and spoon down on the small table near the bed and urged Stephen onto his back. "You are delightful," he whispered, and leaned over him to brush a kiss against his shoulder, then his neck, his chin, his lips.

Moving his arms around Jack, Stephen arched into his touch and kissed him back. "I thought I was overly studious and far too interested in beetles," he mocked.

"Only when I'm not making love to you," Jack said in a similar tone. His hand moved down over Stephen's side, then slipped under his hip and pulled him ever closer.

Jack was the only man Stephen had ever touched who would call what they did making love, rather than by some cruder term. Jack did not like to see men hanged for sodomy and made an effort not to become involved in such cases, yet he treated their congress as if it were something else entirely, though with all secrecy and caution. He apparently had never been taught to recognize the vice as a sin of weakness, and Stephen was painfully glad of that, though he wondered whether Jack's oddly innocent pleasure made his own indulgence more reprehensible.

Banishing such concerns, he let his legs slide apart as he twisted to meet Jack's hand. Jack nuzzled Stephen's neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to his shoulder. He paused there, sucking gently, as his fingers found their way to Stephen's cock, trailing over its length. He stayed like this for some time, until Stephen was moaning, and then he pulled away to retrieve the honey. "Dear one," he whispered, and drizzled the sticky substance down the middle of Stephen's chest.

Stephen had made a rather undignified noise when Jack released his cock, and his hips heaved when he felt the honey drip onto his chest. Playing with food felt terribly indulgent to him; he was too aware of how many children starved, and the painful rations that men had to endure at sea. He shivered, though he was sweating, and thrust again toward Jack.

"Patiently," Jack teased, and leaned over to lick up the honey. He was careful not to touch Stephen otherwise, keeping his hands away from his body.

"Cruelly," Stephen retorted, wishing his voice wouldn't rise so alarmingly in pitch.

"Wantonly." Jack chuckled, dribbling more honey on Stephen's skin, and licking it away. Then he glanced up at him, dipped his finger into the dish, and smeared honey across Stephen's lips. "And mine," he added, very softly, before kissing him.

"Yes," Stephen groaned, though he wasn't sure whether Jack understood the word as it was spoken directly into his mouth. Jack tasted like honey, an impossibly arousing flavour on his lips, but the sweet fluid seemed forgotten for now, as Jack continued to kiss him, pressing into him, thrusting against his hip.

"Stephen," he said softly against his mouth. "I need you."

"Then have me," Stephen said again when he could catch his breath between kisses. "What do you want? Anything. As you have just said, I am yours."

Jack's mouth moved once more along Stephen's throat. "Then perhaps you might give me this," he said, and closed his hand around Stephen's cock again, making him groan.

"I give it to you gladly." Stephen shivered against Jack's lips. "Unless, of course, you would prefer to give me yours."

"Tonight? I would like to give it to you slowly, until you beg for more."

"If you think that you can make me beg, then I beg you, please do so," Stephen moaned in an exaggerated voice as he continued to run his hands over Jack, licking Jack's lips. Jack, in turn, let his lips and hands roam freely. "Ah," Stephen sighed as Jack's mouth descended, fair hair falling across Stephen's thigh. "Oh, delight...please don't stop..."

"No, you are the delight," Jack chuckled, and licked over the length of his cock. "There is little to compare with the way that you respond to this." Groaning, Stephen thrust up thoughtlessly and dropped down again. He bent one leg, giving Jack greater access. "You see? Simply delightful, Stephen." Jack moved a little lower, licking and sucking, fingers coming around to stroke between the cleft of his buttocks.

Stephen reached down, finding Jack's long hair and pulling it up over his skin. "No, you...knew just what I wanted..." he whispered.

Jack lifted his head. "You are so stubborn," he said softly, and flicked his tongue against the head of Stephen's cock. Stephen would have laughed were he not gasping. Grinning, Jack said, "Tell me you brought that oil from your medicine chest."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, but if you look in my vest pocket..."

"I will be back very shortly," Jack said with laughter in his voice. "Be certain that you touch nothing while I'm gone." He grinned again and left the bed, returning a brief moment later with the oil.

Stephen had one hand resting on his belly and the other against his thigh. "I've touched nothing," he said sweetly.

Jack laughed and slid back onto the bed. His tongue moved once more to Stephen's cock, with broad, slow swipes along its length. "I'm so very proud of your forbearance," he said teasingly.

Stephen bent his legs around Jack's body, stroking his sides with his feet. "Will I receive a commendation?"

"Indeed you will," Jack replied. "For indulging my appetites so delightfully. You spoil me."

"Do I? I think you spoil me."

"I may," admitted Jack, smiling up at Stephen, "but only because you deserve it."

"I shall remind you that you said that the next time we have an argument," Stephen murmured, feeling his mouth stretch in a smile.

Jack returned it, and said, "Please do." He fell silent, briefly, once more moving to settle at Stephen's side, fingertips moving over his sticky chest. "Do you know how very dear you are to me?"

"No more than you are to me, sure." Stephen caught the hand and kissed it, wondering whether his breathlessness was apparent to Jack. "I think you flatter me, sir," he said lightly, though the words were as much for his own benefit as for Jack's. "The next time there is a prize to catch, or even a damsel to rescue, you will forget that you have said such a thing. Whereas I will despair, and wonder what on earth I can say to win back your attention."

For a moment Jack stared at him in silence, as the noises from the street below drifted into the room, bringing firmer echoes of the world to which they must return. Then Jack pressed Stephen down onto the mattress, which heaved as though they were on a ship tossed by a great swell. "You are greatly mistaken," Jack whispered, opening the bottle and pouring oil over his fingers. "I cannot get enough of you. I will show you, if only you will let me."

Stephen spread wide and tried to press himself down when one of Jack's fingers touched him gently, stroking and circling in the way Stephen had taught him, his physician's training having offered all too much in the way of suggestions to make this act seem natural and pleasurable. "I cannot either," he whispered. "Please...Jack."

Jack hushed him, placing a kiss on his shoulder, then his belly, then his thigh as he slowly pushed his finger in. He drew it out, poured more oil over it, then eased it back inside, repeating this over and over again, all the while kissing Stephen's thigh and licking alongside his cock.

"Jack," gasped Stephen again, lowering his hands to the bed to clutch the covers in his fists and regain some control over his rebellious hips. "Please. Jack!"

"Yes, Stephen?" Jack looked up at him, smiling quite benignly, slipping another finger into him.

"You said, until I begged," Stephen reminded him with another gasp, arching to bend Jack's fingers the way he wanted them inside him. "Now, joy, please!"

"Did I say that?" Jack teased. "Then I suppose that I am bound to my word." He moved back up Stephen's body, kissing him softly before he slicked the oil over his cock. "Tell me you want it, Stephen."

Stephen reached for a pillow and lifted his hips up to push it under him, pressing himself hard against Jack. "I want it," he said. "Please, Jack."

Jack kissed him again, then with as much tenderness and care as he could muster, guided himself into Stephen. One hand moved to Stephen's hip, grounding Jack against Stephen's flesh. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against Stephen's shoulder. Bracing one foot against the mattress, Stephen pushed himself upward as he wrapped his other leg around Jack. With a loud groan he pulled Jack closer with his hands.

"Stephen," Jack said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Before he was fully buried inside, he pulled out almost completely, then pushed forward again, unable to hold back his own moan of pleasure. Stephen's head was tilted all the way back, his hands alternately clawing at the bedcovers and Jack's skin, knowing that Jack was teasing him, thrusting slowly, not quite pressing into the spot that would obliterate all other feeling, so that Stephen was achingly aware of everywhere else they touched and everything that Jack was saying.

It seemed that Jack was moving impossibly, agonizingly slowly, braced on his arms on either side of Stephen's body. "Love," he gasped, and pressed kisses to his chest, licking and sucking in between. Stephen's hands slid up Jack's back, fists clenched so that he would not be tempted to scratch, until his hands found Jack's loose long hair and wrapped in it. There was a real edge of pain in his groans, for he felt as though he might tear apart every time Jack pushed forward, making him shudder.

Then Jack groaned, and began to thrust faster inside him, harder, shuddering with each stroke. He whispered to Stephen, nonsensical words spoken against his flesh. "Oh," Stephen gasped, unable to keep silent as Jack finally hit him at an irresistible angle. "Jack. Ah! Jack!" His fingers uncurled and clawed through Jack's hair at the back of his neck, urging him on.

Jack's mouth opened against Stephen's skin, and a groan rose up in his chest. "Stephen...oh, love." He lifted his head, looking up at him as he let need drive him, pushing him deeper into Stephen. One hand dropped back down to his hip to hold him, guiding him to move with each surge forward.

Stephen tried to hold Jack's gaze but could not even keep his own lids open as his eyes rolled back with each thrust. Jack's name was the only word his tongue could manage, though he wanted to beg Jack to touch him. He could not even detach his hands from behind Jack's head where they were holding on tightly, keeping his motion in tempo with Jack's.

Repeating his name, Jack released Stephen's hip to slip his hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Stephen's cock. "Swiftly now," Jack gasped, stroking him, the rhythm of his hips increasing. Arching into Jack's grip, Stephen let Jack's motions overwhelm him, knowing that neither of them could keep this up much longer. Jack's hard thrusts were burning him but his cock was pulsing with them, craving release. "Jack," he called out once more and then cried out loudly as he jerked in his hand, spattering Jack's skin and his own.

"Ah," Jack gasped, "Stephen!" He squeezed his eyes shut as his hips wrenched helplessly, thrusting hard into Stephen only a few more times before he spent inside him.

Jack's hair had become knotted around Stephen's fingers; he tried to extricate them but feared that he was pulling too hard, and decided that he should wait until his hands had stopped shaking. His shoulders were tense from arching off the bed, and he lay back, pulling Jack against him as he lay flat. Jack lay above him for several long moments, gasping for breath. He groaned as he pulled from his body and pressed more kisses to his chest. "I must be too heavy for you..."

"Not at all, joy," Stephen said, surprised at the hoarseness of his own voice. His legs slid slowly downward to collapse against the mattress, which was already sagging under their combined weight. Slowly he detached his hands from Jack's hair, pulling them away with several strands clinging around the knuckles. "I am terribly sorry," he said automatically.

"No apologies, my dear," Jack said, and leaned up to kiss him. He rolled onto his side, pulling Stephen with him; then he frowned a little, and asked, "Did I hurt you very much?"

"The discomfort is never greater than the pleasure." Smiling, Stephen settled against Jack, stroking his chest. "Your skin is sticky. I've managed to rub honey onto you."

Jack's fingertips stroked up and down Stephen's back. "Then it is fortunate indeed that I do not mind being sticky," he said softly.

Lowering his head, Stephen licked experimentally over the damp hair on Jack's chest. It tasted odd, and clung to his tongue. "Salty, too," he admitted.

Jack laughed softly. "But not terribly unpleasant I hope."

"Not unpleasant at all." Stephen nudged at the hair with his nose, feeling ridiculous for a moment before he remembered that this was Jack he was with, and Jack had never given the slightest inclination that he was bothered by sentimentality or affection of this sort. He went back to licking.

Jack stretched against him like a big cat, even making a sound quite like a purr deep in his throat. "Stephen," he said, sounding very pleased.

Stephen's mouth encountered bitterness and realized that it was his own seed; he had not noticed that he had sprayed it so far up Jack's chest, and laughed, flushing. "You must have made me wild indeed, for me to have made such a mess."

Jack glanced down at him, smiling. "Then I must congratulate myself on a task well done."

"Did you get enough honey?" Stephen asked, lifting a finger and pressing it against Jack's lips.

Jack licked the finger and nodded thoughtfully. "I do believe I did." He lifted Stephen's face, ducking his head; the kiss was long, slow, lingering, Jack's tongue tasting Stephen's mouth. When he finally released him, he added, "And, if not, I am certain there will be more honey with the tea in the morning."


End file.
